


Tall, Dark Stranger

by KateKintail



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Daisy Chain of Awesome, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-03
Updated: 2013-02-03
Packaged: 2017-11-28 00:56:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 869
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/668431
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KateKintail/pseuds/KateKintail
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One cold, November day, a man comes back into Minerva’s life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tall, Dark Stranger

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: JKR’s characters. I play for free and for fun.
> 
> Written for the Minerva/Original Character week of the Harry Potter Daisy Chain of Awesome
> 
> Thank you to my local Harry Potter group (The DADA) for the plot bunny I used to write this.

Minerva McGonagall stands on the Hogsmede train platform as a large, black steam engine arrives pulling a whole line of cars. Nervous, she resists the urge to start pacing back and forth as she waits for him to disembark. The train stops for ten minutes and just as she begins to suspect he may not be coming, there he is, pulling two heavy suitcases behind him.  
  
He is not what she had imagined. He is tall; so much taller than the last time she saw him. And he is sporting a goatee. But he still has those same handsome brown eyes, whispy brown hair, and soft cheeks. He still has that young, baby-face look. He looks right past her at first, but then he recognizes her and makes for her.   
  
Not sure how to greet him, she smiles. “Hello, Timothy.” He nods back, apparently not remotely interested in even a hug. “I hope your journey went well?”  
  
“As well as can be expected,” he says with a strong English accent.   
  
“Well, it’s getting a wee nippy out. Here, I’ll take charge of your bags.” She quickly charms them to roll along behind her. “We had better head in where it’s warm. I’ll show you the way.” She heads over to the Three Broomsticks.   
  
With a deep breath, he follows her with a “Whatever you say, Mum.”

 

*

 

It was likely that Timothy did not recall the last time he had had Butterbeer. He had been only a few months past one year old at the time and had been unruly and squirmy. He seemed to have liked it then, but he appeared to hate it this time. He takes one sip and spends the rest of the time merely holding the warm mug between his hands.   
“His battle was hard but he went peacefully in his sleep finally due to old age,” Timothy says. “If you care.”  
  
“Of course I care.” She reaches out for his hand, but he leans back in his chair to move just far enough back. “I loved your father very much.”  
  
“You just loved that Dumbledore fellow more.” He states matter-of-factly.   
  
Minerva’s heart sinks. “Is that what your father told you?”   
  
Timothy nods.   
  
“But you know that I begged him to stay, right? You know I tried everything I could to make him part of my world and to convince him to stay. He knew what he was getting when he married me.”  
  
Timothy stares at his drink, finding Butterbeer more interesting to watch than to drink. “He knew he was getting a witch, but he didn’t realize he was entering into a war. He thought you were a professor, not a soldier.”  
  
Minerva wishes she had ordered something a little stronger than Butterbeer now. Her heart is aching, so close to breaking. “I could have protected both of you. If I’d known he was going to leave suddenly and take you with him…”  
  
“You could have found us with magic. You can’t tell me there weren’t ways.”   
  
“I had to respect your father’s wishes. I tried to reach out to him so many times, but all of my owls went unanswered.”  
  
He looks up at her, an expression on his face that is full of confusion and astonishment. “You sent owls and expected him to think things were normal?”  
  
“I didn’t promise things would be normal,” she says. “Just safe. And loving.”   
  
He turns away and there is silence between them for many minutes. “I brought you some things I found in our attic that I presume are magical. I couldn’t identify some of the things. But there are photos that…”  
  
“Photos that move?” she asks, and he nods.   
  
She knows what those photos are without having to look at them. She knows they show her wedding ceremony, that beautiful white dress and that kilt her husband-to-be wore just for her. She knows they show the birth of her only son, with her looking exhausted but gazing into his eyes in a way that made the entire world make sense. She knows they show Timothy’s first bath, his first steps, his first birthday. And she knows that is probably the extent of what they show. “Thank you,” she says softly. “I will treasure them, and I appreciate you delivering them to me. You didn’t have to come all this way.”   
  
He leans forward and pushes the mug aside. Minerva’s heart races. “Before he died, he told me he wanted me to get to know you. He said to tell you he was sorry. He said he hoped you were happy. He said he hoped you understood.” He swallows hard and Minerva sees tears in her Timothy’s eyes. “I came because I made a promise to him. And I would like to stay a little while because I think I do want to know you.”   
  
She wants to leap across the table and embrace him, but knows it is more important to take this slowly. “I would be honored to get to show you my world and get to know you, too.” Minerva is glad she is headmaster now and can make the rules. He will be the first muggle to set foot in Hogwarts.


End file.
